Coronado
by Walis
Summary: Grimmjow is going to be king, even if it's the last thing he does. Good thing he's got a new secret weapon that he plans to steal right out from under Aizen's nose, whether she wants to come or not. GrimmHime
1. All Used and Beaten Up

_A/N: Taking the plunge again here with this one. I finally got pissed off enough at myself for not posting the very last chapter of my _Yu-Gi-Oh! _fic before my brain took off with itself and started writing this. In my brain's defense, though, it's been writing this since we readers and watchers were embroiled deep in the Las Noches saga. Years ago. Effing KT, you troll._

_Warning now: Updates will be sporadic, random, and of incredibly varying lengths. I've already got a whole bunch of chapters written for this, and a definite direction and conclusion. It's how I wanted Las Noches to end. I'm writing it for me, because there's nothing worse than standing an armed watch on a lonely quarterdeck at two in the morning. And because I've listened to "We're in this Together Now" on repeat for the last 7 years and can no longer disassociate it with GrimmHime, damnit._

_Endless thanks to OveractiveImagination for all the times you spend nerding out with me despite how often reality tries to suck time away from our fun. You help me remind myself that we do it because it's fun. And because there's not enough good GrimmHime out there, fufufu._

_Enough of my babble. Read on, cool cats._

_Disclaimer: _Bleach_ and all associated places and characters are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just having fun._

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**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 1: "All Used and Beaten Up"_

Orihime's face throbbed, and her pride stung. She held cool fingers to the swelling under her eye, wishing that her tears would stop soaking her palm.

She had held out for a commendable length of time before the pain and humiliation wrought by the two Hollow girls was too much to withstand. She remained silent throughout the beating and could not even make a noise when Loly delivered a swift kick to her ribs that sent the wind from her lungs and a crack through the bones there.

She would have to heal that.

After the girls had departed, she crumbled to her side in a ball and sobbed silently. She was framed by the light streaming into the dark cell through the still-open doorway. The bars over the window had long-since witnessed the departure of the forever-waning moon into the perpetual night sky.

Orihime sobbed and wondered.

Now, here, in the throes of her pain and self-pity, she could not come up with any purpose or direction.

Forced into a corner, she had selflessly sacrificed her freedom to Ulquiorra at the threat of her loved ones' safety. She could not bear to think, though, that she had served her purpose. Surely her chapter had not ended with her incarceration. Why, after all, did Aizen truly order her detainment? She seriously doubted she was here as a single-woman nurse corps for his army of Arrancar. Orihime recalled Grimmjow's mad laughter with a shudder and curled tighter into herself on the floor. She could almost feel the electric tingle of his oppressive _reiatsu_.

She missed the tall shadow that the new figure in the doorway cast on her.

Calculating blue eyes narrowed on her defeated form, taking in her torn dress and the hint of blood and bruising peeking through the fingers still covering her shame. His expression was indecipherable.

When Orihime finally pulled her hands from her face, the doorway was empty again, and there was no trace of her fleeting third visitor.

She fell asleep there on the floor.


	2. I've Become Impossible

_A/N: Here's chapter 2 to whet your appetite for this fic. Moar Grimmjow! always pleases, right?_

_Tidbit: This whole story is owed in large part to a fanart that was illustrated a long time ago titled "...The Deeper the Wound..." featured on DeviantArt by the artist kara-lija. It was my exposure to the song "We're in this Together Now" by Nine Inch Nails (incidentally, the lyrics to which have contributed to the titles of chapters one and two), and the downfall of my Top 25 playlist on iTunes. Whoops._

_Thanks loads to you super people who reviewed, alerted, and/or faved the first chapter. You guys are pretty cool._

_Disclaimer: _Bleach_ and all associated places and characters are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to eat cake._

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_**Coronado**_

_Chapter 2: "I've Become Impossible"_

She was pretty as sin, but dumb as fuck if you asked him.

The girl stood stock-still with her chin tucked under and her hands folded primly before her. She along with the ten Espada stood before Aizen as he waxed eloquent about some subject Grimmjow was sure he couldn't give two shits about. The Sexta could swear the man just loved to hear himself talk.

His attention was instead focused squarely on the young human in their midst. It was obvious that she was trying her hardest to be unnoticeable. Unfortunately for her, she was a lamb in a den of wolves, the natural – and particularly exquisite – prey of a nest of monsters that sustained themselves on the souls of the living. And every Hollow in that room could smell how especially sumptuous a soul their guest had. She was divine.

He watched as she fidgeted under the stares of half the room. Their loyalty to Aizen did not necessarily cancel out the Espadas' savage nature, and most of them did not have the tact or the reasoning to hide their interest in the girl. Ulquiorra, stone-faced as always, was the only one wholly focused on the Shinigami leader, and Halibel stared blankly at a spot on the wall over his shoulder. They were the only two not leering at the human girl in some way.

Her look of sheer distress was amusing on a certain level.

What Grimmjow did not notice, however, was any sign of the physically crippled girl he had seen last night.

Her face showed no evidence of the cuts or bruising she had been trying to hide from her empty room the previous evening. Her dress was white and pristine, and her countenance was composed, though perhaps a little uneasy in the presence of so many monsters.

He wondered if her healing powers could take away her memories or if she just had a stronger backbone than he'd originally credited her with.

He watched as she continued to fidget to Aizen's incessant droning in the background. Grimmjow thought fleetingly that he should probably be listening to what was being said, otherwise he would end up leaving the meeting with just as little information as he had come with.

How would he ever overthrow Aizen if he didn't even know what the Shinigami's plan was? He needed to pay attention.

Despite the defeat of his little legion of loyal Fraccion in the world of the living, his ambition to rule Hueco Mundo as its king had not lessened. If anything, their sacrifices strengthened his resolve. They might be destroyed, but after he'd eaten of them decades ago, they would live on in him forever. Their goals constantly whispered in the clatter of voices in his head. They screamed, growled, lilted, sang, cried, and chanted, and it was a testament to his composure that he was not driven to complete madness by the voices of all the souls he had consumed in his undead life.

His goal remained, then, that he would be king. After Aizen's demise, he would ensure that Old Man Barragan was out of the picture. Starrk might be Primera, but ambition was certainly not in his character. Grimmjow felt he posed little threat for when the time actually came to take action.

The question remained, though, as to when that time would come.

After a century of scheming, the Shinigami had finally revealed his hand to his once-allies in the Seireitei. His master plan had finally been set into motion, and Grimmjow knew now was the time to examine all the parts of Aizen's intricate maneuver as they unfolded.

He was certain this girl was a wild card, though.

She was probably still in her teens, if he were to judge her based on appearance alone. It had been centuries since he himself had aged, though, so he might have been a poor judge of that.

This girl, he thought to himself, must have some sort of unspeakable power or at least an incredible untapped potential for Aizen, meticulous as he was, to willingly risk derailing his plans by kidnapping her.

Opportunistic predators were successful predators, he reminded himself as he dissected Aizen's strategies. Grimmjow was a top predator as well.

He watched as she slowly began losing some of her poise and composure, certain she could feel the hungry stares of the Espada surrounding her. She fidgeted absently, twiddling her fingers as she clasped them in front of her. He watched as she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, intent on learning her body language and using that to his advantage.

She was, after all, here against her own will. Grimmjow hoped this fact could potentially be used to sway her to his cause, and Aizen could experience the shock of his plans coming unraveled from within his own organization.

Yes, Grimmjow liked the sound of that in his head. This pretty little girl could be just the break he was looking for in his plot to overthrow Aizen.

As if she knew the extent of his attention, he watched as the girl's eyes fluttered up from the floor around her feet. They scanned around for a moment until her shocked expression met his own and locked. Grimmjow thrived on the deer-in-the-headlights look she gave him and delivered a menacing full-toothed grin, letting her know that she was the focus of his attentions. He almost laughed aloud as she first blanched entirely then turned scarlet. Her eyes shot back to the floor before her, unwilling to acknowledge the Hollow's stare again. She wished the floor could just swallow her whole.

Yes, Grimmjow thought to himself, this would not be hard at all.

Grimmjow was first and foremost a predator, after all, and Orihime was prey ripe for the hunt.

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_A/N: Enjoying so far? Leave a review!_


	3. Fate as it Flows

_A/N: A slightly longer chapter this time around. And imaginary eye-candy, too! Woo-hoo!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to save the world._

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**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 3: "Fate as it Flows"_

Sometimes Ulquiorra let her out to wander.

It was less a form of consideration than it was mild neglect on his part, but she was not one to waste opportunity. She was not extremely docile by nature, and her cell drove her stir-crazy quickly and often.

She'd never been to this part of the compound before, she noted as her boot heels clicked slowly across the white floor.

Orihime found herself in a long, wide corridor. It was evidently some sort of passageway, judging by the breadth of the hall, but any doors she'd passed so far were shut firmly. How boring.

She continued on for a while, intent on at least reaching the end of the mystery hallway before turning back toward what she already knew was more dull whiteness. There was little to stimulate her mind in this place. A small, stupid part of her even wished she would run into one of the locals, fleetingly thinking an encounter would be more interesting than all this emptiness. She squashed that thought as soon as it crossed her mind, though. No run-in in this hell could possibly end well for her.

Minutes later, she started noticing faint noises.

They were familiar, Orihime realized as she tried to place them. She heard them often whenever she would visit Tatsuki at practice or cheer her on at a tournament. Grunts of exertion and indecipherable conversation filtered to her ears as she neared the source of the sounds.

Someone was sparring.

She realized the endless hallway was opening up to her right, and she slowed as she neared it. The noises were louder now and completely unmistakable. The occasional laugh or casual taunt reinforced the feeling she had that this was just practice. She could hear the sound of flesh striking flesh and the dance of evading feet clearly now.

Discreetly poking half her face around the corner, she took a careful first scope of the scene with her left eye, holding her bright hair back else it give away her presence.

She was right. The doorway opened up to a mezzanine, the staircase to the left leading down to a large open space one floor down that reminded her of a dojo. She looked past the railing and at the two fighters below.

One was a shorter man, stocky, quick to react, and compactly built. Orihime thought he looked vaguely Hispanic. He was strong, she could tell, but evidently very overmatched by his partner judging by his extremely frustrated expression.

It was his opponent that made Orihime's eyes widen in shock.

Taller than the first Arrancar by a head, his partner had barely broken a sweat behind his confident, taunting grin. She recognized that smile and the blue hair above it well, by now.

"Stop leaving your left quarter so uncovered," she heard him correct his sparring partner. His deep voice rang clearly in the medium-sized space. The shorter man grit his teeth and tried to comply.

Grimmjow's chest and arms were covered with a light sheen of perspiration that glistened through the dusting of hair there. It was hard to tell in this light, but Orihime thought it might match the blue atop his head. _Strange_, she thought. Then, before she could stop her mind, _I guess the curtains match the carpet_. She blushed at herself and mentally cursed her schoolmate Chizuru for ever saying something so lewd around her.

He had removed his shirt for the match, and she spotted it rolled up in a ball at the side of the little arena. His broad back showed the impressive lines of his musculature as he blocked his opponent's strikes, clearly not extremely affected but not trying to be patronizing. He was instructing, Orihime realized. She never would have pegged him to have that in his character, she mused. He was suddenly much more interesting than the animal she'd written him off as before.

_Especially_ with his shirt off.

She felt a slow blush crawl up her cheeks as she was vaguely mesmerized by the purposeful movements of his physique. This was not the body of a teenager, she thought to herself as she compared him to many of her friends. There was a massive scar that started at his left shoulder and made its way across his chest, down and over like a pageant sash, she mused. He almost seemed to wear it as proudly as if it was one. She wondered where he might have gotten it from, and why he hadn't asked her to heal it along with his other injuries. She could not truly understand the mentality behind using scars as badges or reminders. She was not a fighter at heart, after all.

The Sexta Espada's current opponent let out a furious volley of strikes, clearly frustrated at his inability to match his superior. With a yell, he aimed a final, powerful punch at Grimmjow's head. Orihime gasped slightly before she managed to further stifle the noise.

The taller man caught the offending fist effortlessly, his expression closed and serious in stark contrast to the grin he wore earlier. He lowered his opponent's hand wrapped securely in his own fist as he frowned down at the shorter man. He remained silent, waiting.

"Let me be your _Fraccion_, Grimmjow-sama," Orihime heard him plead. Her hand remained sealed over her mouth as she listened with bated breath. This was much more personal an encounter than she ever expected to see the violent Espada in. She awaited his reaction.

"You are powerful, and continue to grow more so with time. Everyone can see it. It's why that disgusting Shinigami cut off your arm; we all know it. And I know I can grow more powerful under your guidance and leadership." His logical argument was laced with earnest; he'd clearly wanted to be a part of the Sexta's team for a long time. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed.

"There are other Espada whose ranks you could join. Stronger ones." Grimmjow was deadpan. The smaller man shifted uneasily, aware of the fact that he was about to speak out of turn.

"Barragan-sama is an overlord. His _Fraccion _follow him for fear and greed, not loyalty. You... You're a commander. A general. Your troops followed you because they believed in your cause, in your strength, and in your ambition. I would be immensely proud to be the first in the restoration of your army."

Grimmjow had long since let go of his opponent's fist, looking down at the shorter man with an unreadable expression. Orihime noticed, however, that it wasn't particularly pleased. She wondered at that. Shouldn't he be happy that someone thought so highly of him and wanted to join his forces? This interaction was painting so many new layers to the mystery that was Grimmjow. She was enthralled; it was better than a movie.

The smaller Arrancar piped in yet again. "I won't be so weak as your former legion, I assure you of that, Grimmjow-sama," he said, trying to bolster his argument.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Orihime barely held in a shriek of shock and horror as Grimmjow's fist flew out and connected with the other Hollow's face, the crack of bones resonating through the small chamber as he flew backward and crashed into the wall behind him. The force of the blow blew him straight into the stone, where he was left embedded and crumpled. His face was gruesome and unrecognizable, covered in gore. Orihime held back bile.

Grimmjow's expression was stoic as he wiped his fist on his pants. He calmly walked back to the edge of the room, retrieving his jacket. By the time Orihime realized he intended on walking out, it was far too late for her to run anywhere. There was nowhere for her to hide. Indescribable fear clenched her gut as she ducked back behind the wall, holding her breath and bracing herself for what was to come.

Her eyes were squeezed shut tightly as she listened to his unhurried footsteps near the entryway. Her heart raced in her throat, and she wondered if she was going to die here.

The footsteps came to a stop next to her. When nothing happened for a few moments, she dared to open her eyes, only to see the blue-haired Espada standing tall next to her, paying no attention to the girl as he casually shrugged his jacket back on. Her eyes were enormous in her face, filled with fear, trepidation, and disgust at what she had just seen.

As he adjusted his jacket on his frame, she heard his deep baritone wash over her.

"Fix him."

Then, he walked away, never looking at her once.

She scrambled to comply, rushing to the crumpled form lodged in the wall of the practice hall. As the warm glow of her Shun Shun Rikka enveloped the nearly dead Arrancar, Orihime resolved to never wander this hallway again.

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_A/N: I'm actually considering writing a prompt-based drabble chapter. Want to contribute? Leave me a one-word prompt in a review, and maybe it will make it into a future chapter!_


	4. You and Me

_A/N: Here's a chapter to help you get through Hump Day. Thanks for reading!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to veg out._

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**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 4: "You and Me"_

Orihime often wondered how she found herself in these positions.

At first, she thought it was coincidence, running into the tall Espada so many times throughout her short stay here in Las Noches. Perhaps she was seeing him just as often as any other Arrancar; it was just his bright hair and alternately subdued and explosive personality that stuck out in her memory so well.

Then, one day, she found him outside her room.

Orihime's cell was at the end of a narrow corridor, white like the rest of the building and empty of any other rooms. It was how the two Hollow girls cornered her so easily; she had nowhere to run.

She shuddered at the painful memory.

She had not seen the girls again since that last incident, and it was only that thought that made her somewhat grateful that it was Grimmjow at her door right now.

"Um... Can I help you?"

He was slouching, hands in his pocket as he casually avoided eye contact. Orihime hid herself halfway behind the ajar door, instinct telling her not to reveal herself completely to the predator before her.

It helped little, for without a word and with hardly an effort Grimmjow strolled past her and made his way into the room. Orihime's nerves began fraying as she backed up, unable to overcome the Espada's firm push at the door as he easily shouldered his way in.

She stood near the doorway in choked silence as the man, blasé as ever, made a slow circle around her tiny quarters. His gaze passed over the sofa-like sleeping surface, her chamber pot in the far corner, and finally rested on the bars covering her window, a sliver of perpetual moonlight filtering through. Orihime wrung her fingers and fidgeted, then jumped when he suddenly spoke.

"I still owe you for my arm," he said simply, his low baritone filling the small space. Orihime froze, then blinked once, slowly. She answered after a moment.

"It... It was nothing, really."

Grimmjow turned from the window to finally face the girl, a sneer raising the side of his upper lip opposite his jawbone fragment. Orihime saw a flash of straight white teeth.

"Bullshit. You did that for me, now I owe you something in return. That's how this works, sweetheart," he said condescendingly.

Orihime's mouth was dry as she thought of what to say to that. What was he implying? She had no illusions about this place or its inhabitants; certainly he was not _actually_ simply here to repay a debt. Her voice trembled as she asked a question. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Orihime felt a flush pass over her cheeks as his sneer was replaced with a flash of a smirk, the corners of his lips twitching in response to her wording. She had seen enough movies in her lifetime to know how suggestive that statement could be between a man and a woman in a space like this. She mentally smacked her forehead, but stood tall nevertheless as she awaited his response.

His slight mirth disappeared almost instantaneously as he turned to face her fully, a dark and scrutinizing look covering his face as he considered the girl before him. He had not neared much, but Orihime felt as if he was towering over her. She felt inches tall as she played with the ends of her long auburn hair, unable to meet his intense gaze. It was very awkward.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her abruptly.

Orihime was confused. "Eh?" That was the question _she_ was supposed to ask _him_. "This... This is my room..."

The Espada scoffed at her response and impatiently reworded his question. "_Here_, as in Las Noches. Hueco Mundo." One hand slipped out of his pocket to gesture with a wave all around them. "Why the hell are you here?"

Orihime was at a total loss. Didn't Aizen explain the answer to that question to all his Espada the day she arrived and healed Grimmjow's arm? She suddenly questioned his mental capacity.

"Aizen had me brought here. Don't you remember?" she added tentatively, wondering how fragile his faculties were.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "To hell with _his_ reasons." Orihime frowned. "What are _your_ reasons?" he hissed. She did not understand at all.

"Grimmjow," she said, testing his name, "Ulquiorra kidnapped me under Aizen's orders," she explained slowly. "I don't have a choice."

The man's eyes narrowed at the heavy silence that followed. She felt the weight of his judgment and wondered how he felt he had the right to make her feel such pressure. He spoke lowly next, his words passing over her like seductive chocolate, planting the first seeds of doubt.

"You're full of shit, aren't you?" Orihime squashed the initial bubble of affront and indignation that festered immediately upon his words. Who did this man think he was?

"What do you mean?" she asked tentatively, confused beyond a doubt.

He took a short step toward her as he began speaking again, slowly closing the distance between them and sending Orihime's survival instincts in a scramble for purchase.

"You have no plan for escape, do you? I'll bet the thought hasn't even crossed your mind." Orihime jarred at the accusation.

He was right.

"You're just sitting here in your little cell, wandering around this compound during your 'daytime' hours like a pretty little ghost, _waiting_ for someone to come rescue you." She was about to offer a retort, but was cut short. "And don't tell me you're not waiting for rescue. Are you really so pathetic that you would just let yourself be used against your own friends by the very villain behind every major mess you dumbfucks have gotten yourselves into?"

Her mouth snapped shut at that. Again, he was right.

Initially, she had left with Ulquiorra to save her friends from the rock and the hard place that the Fourth Espada had placed her in. She had witnessed - and painfully felt - the overwhelming brutality that the nihilistic Arrancar commanded, and she knew her friends were unprepared for the threat he posed.

Now, though, she was reminded of the purposelessness she felt following the beating she received at the hands of the two Arrancar girls. What was she doing here? How was she helping her friends anymore? Ulquiorra loved reminding her during his daily visits just how futile everything was. It made the meals he delivered particularly difficult to swallow.

The answer was, she wasn't.

Her bottom lip trembled, but she refused to let the blue-haired Hollow before her witness the extent of her distress. Then she felt her indignation from earlier resurface at the Espada. She spoke quietly, voice hardly above a whisper as she looked down at his feet and hugged herself.

"Is this how you're thinking to repay me for your arm? By reminding me how useless I am to my friends?" She struggled not to cry, her personal fears and failures finally brought up by another person for the first time and given the credence she always avoided. "I already know how weak I am, Grimmjow. If I was strong, I wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place. I could have fought back and protected my friends without becoming the liability that I am now."

Her roiling emotions stirred with her spoken admission. Saying it aloud made it so much worse. She was shocked, then, when his laughter rumbled through the room.

"You really are a dumb twit, aren't you?" She looked up at him in shock, meeting his electric blue gaze and humorless smile. "Do I really have to spell this out for you?"

Orihime was confused.

"I know he showed you the Hougyoku."

_Ah_.

She didn't answer his statement, unsure if he truly knew or if he was baiting the answer out if her. Was he perhaps spying for Aizen? She highly doubted it, but stranger things had happened in this awful place.

He went on, uncaring that she did not readily admit to his accusation.

"If it were to be destroyed, he would lose all influence in this world."

The statement by Grimmjow was followed by more silence.

Orihime's eyes were wide in shock. Grimmjow's revelation was no different than what she'd suspected when she laid eyes upon the powerful device days ago in Aizen's chambers. To hear one of his minions outright tell her this, though, was astonishing. What was going on here?

"What are you trying to get at?" she asked suspiciously. She watched as Grimmjow looked down his nose at her, blue eyes glowing strangely in the faint light of her dark room as he sucked his teeth silently behind his closed lips. She imagined he would be the type of man to always have a toothpick in his mouth were he of the living. Handsome or not, this Arrancar clearly had an agenda, and that terrified her.

"Aizen doesn't belong here," he spoke up suddenly. Orihime was dumbstruck by the admission. "Hollows were never meant to be at the beck and call of a Shinigami. It's just unnatural."

Her pulse raced.

"He has no place here, and he has no place on my throne."

Orihime started to interject, somewhat dazed by these rolling admissions. "Your...?" she began, wondering since when Grimmjow felt Aizen was a usurper and how many other Hollows might be in agreement.

"_My_ throne," he growled in response, closing in on the girl before him. She flinched as his face neared, inches from her throat as she cringed her face away and scrunched her eyes shut. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the door behind her.

"That _bastard_ is sitting on what was to be _my_ throne, and I want it to end.

"And you. You want to save your friends, don't you?" Orihime's eyes shot open. Without thinking, she turned to face him with wide eyes, and her cheek accidentally brushed against his thanks to his extreme proximity. He smelled clean. He did not back away as he continued, but he did lower his volume again.

"They will come to try to rescue you, you know. And when they do, they will fail. They will fall like flies to Aizen's army, because they don't have the mettle it takes to survive the brutality that lies ahead of them." She would have slapped him, but he continued immediately. "Don't you want to do something about that?"

Orihime gaped, waiting for his answer that she knew was forthcoming, regardless of her response.

"In battle, your advantage increases exponentially when you can mount your attack from multiple fronts. If Aizen is distracted by the army he knows is coming, then we suddenly have the element of surprise when we destroy the source of his power from the inside."

The tactics seemed sound enough, but the whole scenario was making her head spin.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

His eyes grew unreadable as he slowly backed out of her personal boundaries.

"The enemy of my enemy may still be my enemy, but you are definitely the lesser of two evils. That, and I can destroy you in a heartbeat if this doesn't work. That Shinigami bastard has proven a little harder for me to take care of, hence the reason we are here to begin with."

He was positively chatty tonight.

"So," she began tentatively in an effort at clarification. "You want me to destroy the Hougyoku to help you overcome Aizen somehow," she simplified. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Think about it, chick. As much as you're making me believe it right now, I _know_ you're not stupid." Orihime pouted, her feathers ruffled.

"I can reject it, sure, maybe. But how could we ever get to that point?" Grimmjow made a low noise. It was almost animalistic.

"Are you in on this, or do I have to kill you for knowing too much?" he asked impatiently. Orihime gulped.

"I- I think I'm on the same page, it's just that... This is a lot to take in right now," she looked up at him imploringly. "Up until fifteen minutes ago, you were just another one of _them_. I'm... I'm still having trouble absorbing that this is coming out of _your_ mouth right now." He outright growled at her this time.

"I am _nothing_ like them, and you remember that, you little bitch," he said with an unexpected fire. She was a little taken aback.

She took a moment to examine him wholly. His posture was rigid. His arms were crossed over his chest, and the veins in his forearms were popping out with a tension she hadn't noticed at first. His feet were spread shoulder width apart beneath the billows of his _hakama_, his black boots peeking out from underneath. His teeth were clenched, and his brow had crashed down in an epic furrow.

Suddenly, Orihime did not mistrust him as much as before.

"I'll help you," she said breathlessly.

Grimmjow's frown lessened just a fraction as he studied her face closely. Coming to a conclusion, he nodded once firmly.

"Good."

Then he angled himself with a pivot of his heel and walked out the door, leaving Orihime to wonder what new devil she had just made a deal with.

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_A/N: Thanks for reading dudes and dudettes. Reviews are awesome, and keep those prompts coming!_


	5. Head Like a Hole

_A/N: A short chapter to round out your weekends. Hope you all wished your mothers a happy Mother's Day!_

_Also, if I may be so bold to say so, don't be shy! If you like what you've read so far, leave a review! A tremendous thanks to those who have already; you guys are awesome!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to party._

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_**Coronado**_

_Chapter 5: Head Like a Hole_

Orihime was never very good at keeping secrets.

Every time Aizen called his core component in for a meeting, her gaze would involuntarily flicker to the tall, disinterested Sexta Espada. While never blatantly ignoring the proceedings, even his surprisingly superb military bearing could not conceal his annoyance at every one of these assemblies. Orihime hoped she could use his subtle theatricality as an excuse if she was ever caught staring.

To her distress, she had to enact her plan sooner than she ever thought.

"What is your interest in the Sixth Espada, Orihime Inoue?" Formal as ever, Ulquiorra Schiffer asked her the question bluntly one day as he brought her meal. The girl being questioned fumbled her response.

"Eh? Ah, um…" She struggled to deliver her planned answer. "You see, he, uh…" The Cuatro's unchanging expression further derailed her ability to speak as she felt the pressure of his shockingly emerald gaze. His eyes would be _pretty_ if they weren't so expressionless all the time. _Spinach? No, they're not _that_ green. Lettuce! Maybe. Booger?_

_Heh-heh._

"Orihime."

With a start, she was shocked from her musings. She tried to answer. "You see, he's always, um. He never pays attention, and, uh. I don't think he likes… erm." Ulquiorra was evidently unamused. As Orihime struggled to answer, a thought occurred to her with a randomness that often delighted her friends back home.

"You know, I can always see where his Hollow hole is, but I've never seen yours. Where is your hole?"

If the Cuatro was any less emotionless, he might have been mortified at her wording on her behalf. As it stood, though, he merely pursed his lips. "That has nothing to do with the question I have asked you," he stated. Orihime pouted, the childish expression unusual in the presence of this stoic Espada whose unshaking composure she usually tried to emulate.

"Yeah, well, I'm curious. It's not anywhere _embarrassing, _is it?" she asked with a conspiratorial whisper. Then, "And how do you wash your hair? Does that helmet thingie come off?"

This girl was such a terrible curiosity for him. Every day, he tested the limits of her psyche with his conversations. One evening, he would have her near tears with utter hopelessness. The next morning, though, the emotion will have been washed from her face, and she would ask him such childish, inane, imagination-driven questions such as these.

The Fourth hated to admit how much it intrigued him.

Exasperated with her line of questioning, Ulquiorra stared at her for a moment longer before turning on his heel and abandoning her to her meal. He did not see her again until the next day.

Orihime chalked it up to a victory.

Later that evening, Grimmjow barged into her room while she was lying on her back in the middle of the floor, counting ceiling tiles in her boredom.

"What the hell did you tell that fucker today?" he demanded, worry lining his face.

Orihime shot upright in surprise, slightly intimidated by his rage and confused by his insinuation. She didn't give up any information!

"I asked him where his hole was!" she squeaked, the response spilling from her lips before she could think. Her verbal filters did not work so well under pressure.

Grimmjow stood there, momentarily dazed by her answer. She thought the look on his face was actually _adorable_ if it wasn't for the fact that he could render her limbless in the blink of an eye.

He did not stick around much longer, though. Orihime could not help the tiny incredulous smile that came to her face at the memory of his roaring laughter as he walked back out her door.

It seemed her reluctant ally had a better sense of humor than her babysitter. His laugh was different when it wasn't in the heat of battle or destruction, she mused.

Her lips stayed slightly upturned as she picked up counting ceiling tiles where she left off.

* * *

_A/N: What did Grimmjow tell Ulquiorra to get him that riled up? I'll leave that up to you. ;) Don't forget to review!_


	6. Rebel Yell

_A/N: Can you believe that I have written the majority of this story from my cell phone? I remember my family's first cellphone... hell, I remember my family's first "car phone", that lovable monster of a black brick. Technology is amazing. You can be creative anywhere, anytime these days!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to Macarena._

* * *

**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 6: Rebel Yell_

Grimmjow would find her in the strangest places.

He knew that she had trouble being cooped up in her cell; he would sense her _reiatsu_ in all manner of locations throughout the compound of Las Noches. _How _she came across some of these obscure places was a question for someone with a more vivid imagination than his own.

It made for excellent covert meetings, though.

The rumble of beasts in the subterranean waste disposal facility echoed eerily off the dark walls, the plip-plop of condensation dripping off every surface and adding to the ambiance. It was no surprise that in the diverse array of Hollows of this world, there existed ones whose sole purpose it was to eat trash. A use for everyone, Grimmjow mused.

The girl before him was staring up wide-eyed at the vast, cavernous space, one hand covering her nose and mouth as she attempted to balance her curiosity with her gag reflex. The stench was atrocious, but Grimmjow had more control than to show how it affected him.

"How the hell do you find these places?" he asked her, judgment lacing his tone.

"How do you always manage to find me?" she countered, voice muffled by her hand. Grimmjow sneered.

"You're about as discreet as a rhinoceros, Princess. Anyone could hear you stomping around from a mile away." Ignoring the nickname, Orihime pouted at the accusation. Was he insinuating that she was fat? What a jerk.

"I didn't realize Hollows could make such a mess," she observed as she turned in a slow circle, meandering deeper into the cavern filled with trash and waste. Her head snapped up towards a rumbling bellow she heard somewhere further into the catacombs of sewage. There was more than one monster in here. Grimmjow said nothing to her comment and merely watched her, arms crossed and expression unreadable. "Or is this from the Shinigami that live here?" she asked observantly, turning to face him as she asked the question.

Again, he ignored her.

"The Soul Society abandoned you. They've ordered your friends not to go after you," he updated her bluntly. Her saddened – but unsurprised – reaction meant that Ulquiorra had already told her.

"I know," she said softly, confirming his suspicions. Her hand still stung from where she had slapped the Fourth. He did not let her linger on this for long.

"They'll come for you, regardless." Her head popped up at this, her eyes looking at Grimmjow strangely. She was silent for a moment as she weighed something, never once letting her expression leave the Espada before her.

"Why do you think that?"

Grimmjow again decided not to answer. "We need to be prepared for when they enter Hueco Mundo. That is when Aizen will be most distracted, and when we will be able to mount our opposition from the inside. If we wait until then to start preparing, though, it will be too late." He made sense, she thought. She nodded in understanding. "I need you to tell me how long you think it will take for you to destroy the Hougyoku once I get you in."

Orihime blinked owlishly. That was… direct. "Uh… I have no idea," she answered.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "How well do you understand your own powers?" he asked, deep voice rumbling in the echoing sewer. Orihime merely shook her head, unable to answer the question as she looked up at him with helpless eyes. He sighed and gazed off down a long, damp corridor.

"Brilliant," he grumbled, staring intently at the puddles around them as he thought hard. Orihime was fascinated by the look of intense concentration on his face. He was a more precise tactician than she ever would have expected based on first appearances. She wondered if he spent his free time playing strategy games. A mental image of Grimmjow challenging Ulquiorra at a chess board fluttered into her mind. The Fourth Espada stared quietly, green eyes expressionless and frightening, while Grimmjow's blue ones were narrowed in cold calculation. Her imagination gave Grimmjow a burning cigarette to rest on his lips. Fedoras appeared on both their heads.

He spoke again, and her mental scenario ended with the imaginary Sexta flipping the chessboard in a rage.

The Espada was looking down at his left arm as he spoke to her next, clenching his hand into a fist then loosening it again, over and over. "You did this in mere moments," he told her, referring to the restoration of his dispatched limb, "from absolutely nothing. I've never seen anything like it before." He glanced up at her from under his furrowed brows with what she could only describe as a look of distrust. "I'll bet you don't even know the limits of your own powers." Her silence reflected the speculation she'd often heard from friends and allies. Having never been a particularly power-hungry person, she never tended to test her limits. Training with Hacchi the Visored gave her a greater understanding of her capabilities, but she was still very ignorant as to the boundaries of her particular magic.

'Magic,' because even Hollows and Shinigami alike found her powers unusual. She felt like a freak, sometimes.

"I can't attack very well," she started, much to Grimmjow's surprise. "In fact, the last time I tried to use Tsubaki, one of you destroyed him," she explained, remembering the horrible encounter with Yammi. "My shield is pretty strong, but someone once explained to me that my powers are only as strong as my resolve. That's why I can heal and reject past events so well. I'm always determined to make things better." That was what Hacchi told her once, as they recovered between training bouts. It was the day after Tsubaki had been restored, and the tiny volatile fairy had not fared well under her tears and smothering.

"Who the fuck is 'Tsubaki'?"

For the second time that visit, Orihime blinked largely. Grimmjow, like most people, she realized, had never truly "seen" the true form her powers took. She bit back a grin before she summoned her Shun Shun Rikka, ready to introduce them to the unprepared Hollow. He exclaimed with a bit-off curse of surprise as they made their appearance.

Lights burst from her hair clips like flower petals on gunpowder. Bright and sparkling, the six points of power spun around their master like fireworks, swirling playfully and chasing away the clawing shadows of the underground world they were in. The Sexta's surprised eyes darted around at each of them as they zipped past his head, looking like a cat chasing a laser pointer. One tiny golden fireball screeched to a halt before his face.

It started speaking.

"I'm Tsubaki, asswipe," the little glowing light said, voice surprisingly full coming from such a small source. "What's with that look? Did your shitty dye job seep into your brain?" Grimmjow's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Ohh, big man's mad now!" the light taunted.

The Espada's large hand shot out and wrapped around the ball of light, no longer worried that it would burn him. The Hollow's eyes widened in slight astonishment when the glowing dust vanished to reveal a tiny man in a black jumpsuit clutched in his fist. The little man struggled in his grip. "Let go, you fat orangutan!" Grimmjow just continued to observe the fairy as it flailed in his grasp, fascinated.

"Your powers… are fairies?" he asked with wonder. The other five lights stopped near him now, surrounding him in a half-circle and extinguishing their glow. He looked at each one in turn, noting the diversity of the tiny group.

"Mm-hmm! This is the form my powers manifested themselves in. Cool, huh?" Orihime said proudly. On the inside, though, she secretly worried about what Grimmjow would think. His dangerous grip on her already once-destroyed assault fairy did not help matters. Grimmjow looked from the last of the small floating persons back to the one writhing uncontrollably in his hand.

"'Cool' wasn't the first word that came to mind- Ow!" His hand opened when the tiny bandana covering Tsubaki's face lowered so the fairy could bite him. The offensive-powered creature flew in an angry circle around the Espada, then landed on Orihime's shoulder possessively.

"Yeah, coming from the guy with a Billy Idol complex. The Eighties are over, Fashion King," he insulted. The insinuation was lost on Grimmjow, so he merely growled.

"Come closer and say that again, pipsqueak," he threatened.

Then, the rest of the fairies descended on him.

"A Hollow that's not trying to destroy us! How fascinating!" said the energetic mad-scientist looking one. The large brawny one just kept staring at him with a dumb look. His mechanical lower jaw reminded Grimmjow a little of Yammi.

"His… his hair is blue!" said a shy fairy, draped in a tiny cloak that swallowed her form.

An athletic looking female whizzed past his ear, closer to his face than his comfort levels permitted. "And despite that, he's kind of a cutie!" She had pink hair, so the Espada felt it was unfair of her to judge.

An exasperated blonde male with a ponytail pushed her aside, taking charge of the situation.

"Honestly. At this rate he's going to think we're all imbeciles. Let's not lump ourselves with Tsubaki, hmm?"

Angry words of protest came from the fairy on Orihime's shoulder, and the Sexta's thoughts spun. This absentminded little girl had a surprisingly complex power, he realized. While most Shinigami had a _Zanpakuto_ with a single personality, hers manifested into _six_ separate beings, each one more different than the next. He would never again underestimate what madness was taking place in her mind.

"Okay, I get it. You've got the gayest power in all the universe," he said in a bored tone. He knew he struck his mark when Orihime pouted. Five of the fairies vanished in a burst of glowing dust, while Tsubaki launched himself from her shoulder to face him again. He stopped, inches from the Espada's face.

"If you hurt her, I'll fly so far up your ass that you'll _taste_ my boots on your tongue," he hissed before vanishing like his siblings.

Grimmjow let the threat roll off of him, unworried. He found it amusing, honestly.

"They're… they're little bits of me. Projected into an outward manifestation. That's what I've been told, at least," she explained in a tiny voice.

Grimmjow decided to add to her mortification.

"Little bits of you, huh?" he questioned casually. Orihime heard the hint of mirth in his voice before he spoke again, and she braced herself. "Tell your subconscious that being 'kind of a cutie' is the worst insult I've received in years. I'm a motherfucking dreamboat," he said with a sneer on his upper lip.

He chuckled lowly at her burning face and blubbering response.

"I'll think on this whole thing for a bit," he said seriously, hands in his pockets as he started to walk away. "Your power's stupid," he lied, "but I still think it's our trump card.

"I'll find you again another day. In the meantime, practice," he ordered.

He stopped in his tracks when Orihime squeaked a request. Unable to hear her, he turned to look over his shoulder. "What?"

She twirled a lock of her auburn hair in her hands awkwardly as she looked at the slimy ground, meekly asking her question again.

"I… don't think I know how to get out of here," she said, embarrassed. "Can you help me?"

One of Grimmjow's eyebrows rose in exasperation. Before turning back around to continue out, he sighed loudly, then walked more slowly than he'd originally intended.

He did not turn to see if she was following. The sound of her boots scampering on the stone beneath her feet were all the indication he needed.

* * *

_A/N: I really want to take a moment to thank reviewer "BigSexyBeans" for a) having the coolest effing reviewer alias ever and b) for leaving such a sweet, flattering review. Because it was done under a guest username, I cannot send you a private message to thank you, so you get a nifty little shoutout in this chapter for fluffing my ego pet and leaving such a muse-inspiring review. Fellow GrimmHime appreciators out there, I would love to hear from you!_

_Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review you super awesome peeps!_

_PS: Dear San Diego, Ca, USA,_

_Please don't burn down._

_With love,_

_Walis_


	7. We're in this Together Now - Part 1

_A/N: This chapter will be presented in two parts. Please enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters and places are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to consistently go over my cellphone data plan._

* * *

**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 7: "We're in this Together Now" - Part 1_

"We need to get out of here," he said with finality. She could detect the trace of urgency in his tone and worried.

"Wh... What? But I thought..."

He cut her off before she could finish. "Plan changed. We're leaving. Now."

Orihime felt sick to her stomach. Their plan for escape was already going to be difficult to pull off as it was, but this new derailment sounded like a recipe for disaster. What could have possibly changed to cause Grimmjow to make such an impulsive decision?

"I'll get my stuff, I guess," she trailed off, ready to turn back into her room and hurriedly grab some essentials she'd packed in a knapsack he had found for her a few days ago. He looked back over his shoulder and down the hallway as he replied.

"Take whatever you've already got. We're out of time." She hurried doubly at his words, panic settling in. His look was intense, eyes sharp and nervous. He looked back at her and pinned the girl with a gaze like a wild predator. She gulped.

They were going to do this.

Orihime had never harbored hopes for escape from Las Noches outside of rescue. Regardless of the fact that he was doing so for his own reasons, she never once imagined that it would be one of her very captors that would help her escape. This wasn't a rescue operation. It was a jailbreak.

He wrapped a large hand tightly around her upper arm, yanking her from her task and out the open door with a surprised yelp. Her hair flew in her face, obstructing her vision as objects spilled from her satchel and she was forcibly removed from her room. They were moving swiftly, she noticed, and Orihime realized she must have been pulled along in the Espada's _Sonido. _She made a noise of protest before Grimmjow's other hand sealed itself over her mouth, her back crashing against his front. His arms wrapped around her like a vice, silencing her and stilling both of them all in one motion. Her heart pounded in her ears as she shut her lips against his cold, dry palm. She stilled as she listened for whatever caused him to stop so abruptly, he leaning against a wall and peeking around a sharp corner.

His hand slowly left her mouth and she looked up at him in question, but instead of answering he raised his freed index finger to his own lips in a quieting gesture. Orihime bit her lower lip.

Then she heard voices.

"Ulquiorra-sama," said a deferent voice in acknowledgement. She held her breath when she recognized the tone – it was the Arrancar she healed after the violent training session she'd witnessed Grimmjow in a time ago. She recalled the pummeled face she had fixed that day, and the chocolate eyes that stared at her in wonder as soon as they were able to again. Like every Arrancar she had encountered thus far, though, he looked at her with a mix of distrust and fear before scrambling away and out of the room.

Even the monsters here feared her, she thought sadly.

"What are you doing here?" said the cool voice of her green-eyed captor. He was just around the corner.

"I was looking for you, Sir," said the lower-ranking Hollow. He was direct and business-like, a tone she knew agreed with the Cuatro. She listened on.

"What is it, then?" he said, slightly impatiently. Orihime was surprised. "I am very busy at the moment."

"Of course, Sir," came the response. "Tier Halibel-sama requests your presence immediately." The revelation was met with silence, and Orihime could almost see Ulquiorra's eyes narrowing in her imagination.

"Why would she send you to deliver this message? You are not among the ranks of her _Fracción_," he said observantly.

"I am a free agent, Sir," he said after a short pause. "I am at the service of any Espada that happens to catch me in the wrong place at the wrong time." She could almost hear the wry smile on his face as he said it. His unusual accent gave the statement a certain believable charm.

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment. Then, "Very well." The clip of his boots faded into the distance as he made his departure. Grimmjow looked down at her and met her wide eyes. He still looked nervous, but the relief she saw there was palpable.

"The coast is clear, Sir." Orihime's head spun to the right. Grimmjow loosened his grip on her and stepped around the corner, acknowledging the other Hollow.

"Which wing should we take?" asked her companion. Her arms wrapped around herself as she stepped out from behind him, belatedly realizing that the large Espada had been practically ensconcing her in his arms. She recalled only how hard the planes of his body had felt – and how cold. She did not have time to be embarrassed.

She'd missed the rest of their conversation, as the next thing she knew, she was again being dragged down the hallway. She saw the fleeting look the Arrancar from the other day gave her before he, too, disappeared.

Orihime's heart clenched at the mix of intensity, caution, and – dare she think it – a smidgen of respect in the gaze he wore before he vanished. Perhaps gratitude was not lost on these monsters, after all.

"He's afraid of you, you know," Grimmjow told her through the whistling of the wind in her ears. Her reaction was surprisingly resigned.

"I know," she said softly. He spared a glance down at her, gauging her expression.

"Most of the Hollows here don't know what to think of you." She murmured a non-committal "Mm-hmm" and kept her head down, watching her feet as they darted to keep up with the Espada. She nearly collided with his back as he came to a sudden stop. He did not look down at her this time.

"What _are_ we supposed to think of you?" he asked, deadpan and low. She caught her breath and thought of an answer.

"What do you… want me to be?"

She felt more than witnessed Grimmjow's disappointment at her answer. His grumbled response was coarse and harsh, and that more than anything brought her closer to tears than she had been all week.

"You'd better figure the fuck out of yourself soon, here, girl. I won't be allied to a person who has yet to find a cause or purpose." His icy stare caught hers from the corner of his eye. She could see his dark profile against the backlighting of the white hallway. His grip around her wrist was just short of crushing. "I refuse to let you get us killed because you can't differentiate black and white in this greyscale world."

And that was exactly when Orihime's world burst into color once again.

Funny how much of it seemed blue.

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_A/N: To be continued..._

_Reviews build good-grade karma, I hear._


	8. We're in this Together Now - Part 2

_A/N: ALMOST forgot to post this today like I'd promised. Please enjoy part 2._

_On an entirely unrelated note, are there any other Arya/Gendry shippers from ASOIAF? I can't be the only one out here, right? Right? Crickets?_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach_ and all associated characters and locations are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to make poor life decisions._

* * *

_**Coronado**_

_Chapter 8: "We're in this Together Now" - Part 2_

Orihime's lungs burned.

Her throat was cold and raw and her cheeks were hot and pink as she panted hard, the fall of her boots adding to the chorus of noises through the whitewashed halls of Las Noches.

They were running for their lives.

Grimmjow's bright blue hair was a beacon ahead of her as he maneuvered them through the maze of the palatial complex. He would pause occasionally, and she would see the sharp profile of his face as he cocked his head, listening down the hallways that stretched from the many intersections they encountered. He still looked worried, and that frightened her.

"What happened, Grimmjow?" She still had no idea why they were suddenly running. He gave pause at her whispered question, looking back at her out of the corner of his eye as if just remembering that she was following him. He then continued on as if she had said nothing. She hadn't _really_ expected him to answer, after all.

Orihime hurried after him.

She did not often see many others traversing these passageways during her regular explorations, but even she had to admit that the palace seemed eerily empty. With all the ground they had covered, she expected to have run into at least _someone_ else following their sidestepping of Ulquiorra. She hoped it had to do with Grimmjow's evasive maneuvers.

Her skin prickled and her eyes widened when she heard a bloodcurdling shriek echo down the white corridors.

It was not quite human, nor was it like any animal she had ever heard or imagined. It was ghoulish, like the scream of a bat magnified a hundred times. Cold chills ran up her spine, and she knew herself well enough to know that her face had likely lost some of its color in her fright. It was worse when she heard her coconspirator curse under his breath in reaction to the horrible noise. He hurried his pace, and she struggled to keep up.

"Grimmjow, what's happening?" she demanded again, with increased urgency lacing her tone. He did not turn back to her this time, but did offer her a response.

"Your babysitter isn't quite the idiot I was hoping he was," came the reply. Orihime's expression changed.

"Ulquiorra…" she whispered in understanding. He merely grunted his acknowledgement ahead of her, before roughly grabbing the girl around the wrist and practically dragging her to keep up. That noise… that terrible noise was him? She had stumbled somewhat when her brain caught up with his revelation, and he could not have her hindering their impromptu escape. He refused to let his precious trump card become his liability.

They were off again, this time with the Devil at their heels.

"There!" she heard Grimmjow say, catching her attention. The white hallway ahead of them suddenly melted into inky blackness off in the distance: the exit to Las Noches. The dark at the end of the tunnel, Orihime thought ironically. As it grew closer and closer, the weight lifted from her shoulders with every burning step that got her nearer to escape.

Then the hallway imploded all around them.

Orihime screamed at the noise, and debris flew everywhere. Grimmjow cursed, yanking the girl forward by her wrist and doing his best to shield her smaller body with his own as he kept up his forward momentum. He shouted into her ear over the racket of destruction.

"Shield! Now!"

Orihime gasped. _Of course._

With a golden sparkling, three of her fairies burst from her hairpins and surrounded the two fugitives as they emerged through the opening and into the cold desert night air.

Grimmjow cushioned the impact of their escape by tucking into a roll on the white powdery sand. Orihime nearly bit through her tongue thanks to their jarring landing, despite the protection the cage of the Espada's arms offered. He finished his roll right back on his feet, his cold eyes brutal and calculating. The girl was amazed by his composure despite the chaos all around them. Her head was still spinning, after all.

The dust was gradually settling in the ruined entryway behind them, and Orihime was a little surprised when Grimmjow forced her behind him, acting as a bodily barrier from the threat.

"What do you think you are doing, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques?" The deep, crisp, and familiar voice sent a thrill of terror down Orihime's spine. He actually sounded _angry_.

The dust cleared enough for the two to see the imposing silhouette of the Fourth Espada draw itself against the light from the compound behind him. She trembled against the Sexta before her, the air in her lungs thickening and stifling from the oppressive and furious pressure of Ulquiorra's _reiatsu._

Grimmjow said nothing, merely staring at his superior with a quiet, ill-concealed hatred.

Ulquiorra's verdant gaze shifted to the girl, and she met it briefly. Try as she might, she still could not understand the puzzle that was her captor. His look was intense, but entirely unreadable. It was far from expressionless, though, and that's what scared her most.

What was it? Disgust? Annoyance? Maybe it was just confusion.

...Or was it betrayal?

Orihime looked away finally, unable to meet his gaze any longer. She wore a frown on her face. He had no right to look at her that way.

Ulquiorra's eyes pinned Grimmjow again, and their staredown recommenced.

"Aizen will hear of this insubordination. You will give the girl back immediately," the Cuatro said stonily.

"Fuck you," Grimmjow responded with a sardonic grin. _He's lost it,_ the girl thought to herself, drowning in a cold sweat of fear. She watched Ulquiorra, face unchanging although she was certain he was thrown by the Sexta's response. He responded after a horrible pause.

"…What did you say?" The question was like cold venom.

"You'll have to fight me if you want her back, bastard," Grimmjow said with an adrenaline-fueled hiss. Orihime could hear the excitement growing in his voice. She was astonished by his change in demeanor. Gone was the nervous animal from before, replaced by this warrior and his bloodlust. This was bad. Grimmjow didn't _actually_ think he could stand a chance against Ulquiorra, did he? "Admit it," he growled through his grinning sneer. "You're afraid to fight me, aren't you?"

Orihime was surprised by the insinuation when Ulquiorra did not offer a response. The Sexta spoke again, his _reiki_ beginning to swirl in anticipation. She saw his right hand clench into a claw in her peripherals.

"You're afraid we'll rip each other to shreds, aren't you, Schiffer?"

Grimmjow barely finished snarling his sentence before he lunged forward, and Orihime was left trying to deflect the cloud of dust that sprung up at his attack. She could barely follow the movement, and only saw when Ulquiorra caught the Sixth's right hand in an arcing downswing, dramatically catching it in his own straining grasp. The force of the impact sent a gale across the desert floor, blowing sand and tossing clothing. Ulquiorra's face was stonily furious, and Grimmjow...

Orihime shuddered at the maniacal grin cutting his face. He was _enjoying_ this!

She had only a moment to realize that before she watched her ally-in-escape fire a glowing Cero from point-blank range, straight into Ulquiorra's waiting hand. She made a noise and covered her head, raising her shield again now that the battle seemed to be getting out of hand. She watched Ulquiorra deflect the attack, and it blew up a wall behind them.

The next part rushed by faster than the girl could follow. One moment, Grimmjow seemed to vanish, then Ulquiorra became equally scarce. They were using _sonido, _she realized, at an inhuman speed that she could barely follow with her eyes.

They suddenly appeared again, and Orihime covered her gasp with both hands. Ulquiorra was suspended in the air, directly over Grimmjow, his long white index finger pointed a mere foot from the top of his light blue hair. The tip of his digit began to glow with a bright, concentrated light. He was about to fire a Cero of his own, right into Grimmjow's head.

With a reaction faster than she thought any creature had the right to possess, Grimmjow clenched his teeth and raised his hand straight up. His snarl turned into a grin again as he charged his own Cero in his open palm, then released it at the same time as his opponent's. Ulquiorra's eyes widened right before the two attacks met and the devastating explosion detonated.

Orihime watched on from behind the safety of her golden shield, hands clasped before her in worry. The destruction wrought by this latest attack created an impassable plume of dust, sand, and debris that she could not see through. Her eyes darted from end to end of the cloud, hoping to see a flash of blue anywhere.

An Ulquiorra-shaped figure flew out, and she felt her heart plummet to her stomach. Now he would take her back. Her escape was a fool's errand, she realized. And Grimmjow…

The Cuatro was looking for him, it seemed. He was tense, and searching all around for his opponent. The chaos created by the blast was still churning, and he could not see through it.

It was so thick, in fact, that he did not know Grimmjow was behind him until his strong arm reached around his left side and over his front. It clasped at his lapel and the pectoral beneath it, and Ulquiorra recognized it as a desperate grab for purchase. His eyes narrowed as his head turned to face his attacker, ready to blast him into oblivion once and for all, Aizen's plans for him be damned.

By the time he realized his mistake, it was far too late to do anything about it.

Grimmjow's hand was planted square over the hole in his chest as the tiny _Caja Negación _slipped in. His vibrant green eyes widened with the shock of his error. _I've been outsmarted… by this _heathen_?_

The power of the device sent a paralyzing shock throughout his body before thick black ribbons blossomed from his empty center, reaching out in all directions before converging like a blooming bud moving backward in time. Grimmjow had already leaped out of the way, and Ulquiorra could only manage to say one thing as the dimensional restraints swirled around him.

"Damn."

Then he vanished, and Grimmjow turned to look at the girl on the barren desert floor below, face cold and stoic in his victory.

* * *

_A/N: So if you're anything like me as a reader and you hate following fight scenes (why I write them with such intricacy when I usually gloss over them as a reader, I'll never understand), then know that I basically just narrated the skirmish scene between Grimmjow and Ulquiorra in manga chapter 278. That's right, I pilfered the action and snuck in my own dialogue, fufufu. Take a gander at that ancient text if you want to see all the juicy, violent details and don't want to bother reading my sad attempt at writing it out._

_And so begins the Odyssey! Don't forget to review!_


	9. Awake to the Sound

_A/N: Brr. Is it just me, or is it cold in here? No? Well, you know, reviews tend to warm the place up... Endless thanks to the few of you who did (and fave, and alert!), but goodness gracious, is anyone alive out there? I'd be just as receptive to hear if you _didn't_ like the story, you know._

_Sorry, I'm not usually one to complain about reviews, but I came back after a few days away to an inbox more barren than Hueco Mundo and couldn't help but catch frostbite._

_Aaanyhoodles, I will likely be away again for about a week, but I would be oh-so-tickled to see what you guys think of this chapter. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach_ and all associated characters and places are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to sweat._

* * *

_**Coronado**_

_Chapter 9: "Awake to the Sound"_

"I don't _want_ you to use your stupid fucking fairies on it!" he barked.

"But you're hurt!" she whined.

"It's a _scratch_, you bumblefuck. I'm not a goddamn invalid," he replied. Grimmjow sneered when her cheeks puffed up in a pout. He idly wondered if she was making the face at his obstinacy or his language.

The _Caja Negación _could only contain an Espada like Ulquiorra for two to three hours, as Grimmjow had explained it, so the two of them had run for their lives following the short skirmish. The Sexta had spent the first half hour with Orihime in his arms, using his _Sonido _to the point of exhaustion. When he could no longer maintain the speed, he put her down on the sand, and together they trudged for hours further. Orihime knew better than to complain, no matter how uncomfortable the cold desert was. Her questions burned on the tip of her tongue, though. She dared not ask them; not yet, anyway.

After hours of trekking through the white sands, Grimmjow finally called a halt to their flight. Like the deserts she had seen on television back in the world of the living, this one, too, was dotted with desolate rocky formations and skeletal mountain ranges. He chose a tiny system of white-stoned caves, and the two hid there for a few hours of recovery.

The arm he'd used to halt Ulquiorra's point-blank Cero had been charred horribly by the attack, and Grimmjow had been too tired to stop Orihime from fretting over it. He laid back while her golden shield folded warmly over it, still short of breath and with little to say. He watched her work her magic with hooded eyes.

Now, his arm was healed, his breath filled his lungs fully, and his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He was _fine_, and she was still being an annoying little _bitch _about the tiny little cut on his brow.

Regardless, they had reached an impasse, and he had a feeling he'd won this particular battle as he watched her worry her bottom lip and fiddle with the edge of her white gown. She would back off. He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest and stretching out his legs before him. He closed his eyes and prepared to rest, physically healed but mentally spent.

She was suspiciously silent.

Minutes passed, and the quiet coming from his characteristically noisy neighbor made him slightly uneasy. He'd stolen enough time with her during their – admittedly quite entertaining – visits in Las Noches for him to know better; his instincts stirred at the abnormality.

When he eventually cracked open his left eye, he noted the supremely guilty look on Orihime's face, inches from his own as she found herself caught hovering over him in an attempt to tape a butterfly bandage over his left eye. Where she had procured it from, he had no idea. Maybe her tits were storage containers, or something. She started sweating bullets when his one open eye narrowed accusingly at her.

"Um," she said intelligently. This was rapidly turning into a Very Bad Idea.

Thinking nothing of their proximity when she set out to covertly bandage her patient, Orihime was suddenly aware of how close she had drawn to him. The ice in his eyes smoldered at her like blue embers, and the young woman wondered how he managed it. She gulped as he slowly and surely lifted himself forward from his reclined position using his arms. As if in the midst of a modern dance, she moved backward in tandem, perfectly maintaining the distance that separated them. Her wild imagination flared to life for a moment, and she envisioned him as a big wildcat stalking his wide-eyed prey with careful and graceful precision. He crawled forward on his hands in the cramped space and over the few short feet to her, adding to the mental image. She nervously jarred herself back into the moment.

By this point Grimmjow had leaned forward completely, and he did not even need to flare his _reiatsu_ for Orihime to feel the oppressive nature of his aura try to dominate her. She was trying her best not to come off as _cowering_, but that was difficult as he leaned over her and very blatantly began invading her personal space once she ran out of room to retreat further.

Her face burned scarlet the closer he got, certain that this was indecent in some way but very forgetful as to _why_when his closeness made it so hard to breathe. She suddenly noticed _how much_ larger than her he was. She went cross-eyed when she saw how very straight his nose was, and, oh, my, his eyelashes were the same color as his hair, and they clashed horribly with the strange teal stripes under his eyes, and his jaw was actually quite chiseled under that gruesome panther-like bone, but was it a growth from his own bone or was it sitting atop his flesh like a mask? Did he brush his mask when he brushed his teeth? _Do Espada brush their teeth?_

Orihime was startled to realize he had said something, and she'd missed it completely. She stuttered when she asked him to repeat himself.

"I said, 'Be careful.' If I wake up to find you doing something like that again, I'll have to take it as an invitation," he said huskily, his expression aflame.

Throat dry, she swallowed painfully and stared up at him like a rabbit, looking innocent as ever even at the cusp of her own sentencing. She was not oblivious to the direction this could go, and under her terror she hoped that Grimmjow was simply trying to intimidate away her brazenness.

She had no idea what she would do if it turned out he was not kidding.

Her whole face tingled, and her lips in particular felt numb as she noticed his gaze drop to them, hungry contemplation dancing in the depths of his hooded expression. He was mere inches away, and she was certain she would be able to feel a fiery body temperature had he been _alive_. She waited for his move with bated breath, her chest heaving slowly with nervous anticipation.

She felt his cool breath brush across her face once in a huff, along with a whispered bark of laughter.

"Dumbass," he said under his breath as he casually bumped her under the chin with his index finger and moved away, back to his side of the crevasse. "Don't touch my face," he warned her before closing his eyes again and trying to fall asleep.

Orihime was breathless. He moved away from her, and it was like the world went back into play.

She'd never felt _that_ before. It was like the butterflies from every crush she'd ever had in her life decided to throw a party in her belly all at once. Her brain worked using singular words, like "close" or "blue", and she was certain she had been gaping like a fish, face slack with submissive anticipation.

_Darn him!_

So much had already transpired today, and her psyche was certainly not prepared for another curveball to her already tattered nerves. Stubborn in her exhaustion, her brain decided now was not the time to process whatever… _that_ just was.

She felt like a fool, but she realized that she was so far out of her league and realm of comfort that perhaps she needed some time to recover from this incident. As soon as her cogs started turning again, she could worry about what just happened.

In the meantime, though…

_I think this warrants a nap, now._

She suddenly felt her exhaustion crash over her. Despite her roiling emotions, she was asleep in minutes.

She never noticed the sliver of blue staring at her from her companion's eyes across the short way.

He watched over her the entire night.

* * *

_A/N: Oh, Grimmjow, don't exaggerate. Ichigo, himself, once said that Orihime was lighter than she looked..._

_You like? Please review! You no like? Please review!_


	10. Holding on to When

_A/N: Holy moly, you guys are awesome! Maybe I should complain about reviews more often, seeing as how many awesome reviews came about after last chapter. Meh-heh-heh-heh..._

_Twas a supremely busy week for me, so hopefully you enjoy this chapter that I managed to eke out. Happy reading!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters and locations are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to window shop._

* * *

**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 10: "Holding on to When"_

She didn't realize the desert would be so cold.

That was stupid of her, she thought in hindsight. Orihime's uniform, despite being long-sleeved, did not defend her very well against the chill.

"So what's it like out there in the big bad World?" Her head spun around at the unprompted question, and she turned to face her companion. She was trying to rub feeling back into her arms with her hands. They'd been trudging the coarse white sand together in silence for hours now, and she had not expected that to change on account of anyone's contribution but her own. He'd been studiously avoiding her questioning all this time after all.

Her tall Espada kept his gaze firmly locked on the dark horizon as his strides remained wide and measured. Orihime noticed with some surprise that his sleeves were rolled down and his jacket was partially zipped. She never suspected that the dead could get cold.

"What, you mean the world of the living?" She took his silence as confirmation. "Uhm… the same, I guess?" She had no idea how to answer the unusual question and hoped for some guidance.

Grimmjow snorted. His deep voice was dry with sarcasm as he responded. "Uh-huh. Because all those tall, blocky buildings really reminded me of the deserts here back home." He flashed her a sidelong glance, and she was grateful that his icy eyes remained on her for only a moment. "Your imagination practically shits rainbows and unicorns; I'm pretty sure you can give me a _slightly_ more colorful description than that," he said sardonically.

Her cheeks puffed up in insult, but she rose to the challenge. Let him _try_ to shut her up now. "Well, I mean Karakura's kind of suburbia, but it's sort of neat how you can't tell where it ends and the big city starts. They just sort of bleed into one another," she began, using his reference to the local architecture as a starting point. He had her motor running, and she was in her element. "Really, it's not until you start seeing the super-nice cars that you realize you're in the city at all! Although we've also got a really cute park where-…"

He cut her off with a question. "What's a 'car'?"

She stared wide-eyed at his departing back as he kept walking away, he unaware that Orihime had stopped in her tracks, jaw hanging. The Espada only turned around when he noted her silence, then he narrowed his eyes at how far back she had fallen. "Now what?" he asked, annoyed.

"It's a… it's this way we get around, and… it's metal, and…" She couldn't help the slightly shrill note her voice took at her next question. "Exactly how long have you been dead, Grimmjow?"

He raised his chin haughtily as he examined her through calculating eyes, judging whether there was any insult meant by her inquiry. Ultimately finding her question to be relatively harmless, he gave a languid blink and turned his head to the side lazily, shrugging his shoulders all in one movement. "I don't know… few hundred years?"

Her brain felt like someone was gently melting a slice of cheese onto it, oozing into the nooks and crannies and slowing down her faculties with this particular new bit of fascinating information. She had no idea why, but this intriguing new fact made her suddenly and inexplicably _happy_.

Thinking back on it, she was sure that some of her Shinigami friends must have been just as old. She was now disappointed in herself for never asking them such a question. She would rectify that error with the new friend before her.

"Didn't you see cars every time you were in the real world to hunt and haunt and just… generally wreak havoc?" she asked him. "They've been around for… well, over a hundred years, depending on the part of the world."

He made a clicking noise between his cheek and molars, then answered. "Tch, I haven't been back there regularly in a century. Menos-class Hollows can't survive long just feeding over there; there's not enough _reiki_ to make it worth our while." As if in demonstration, he snapped off a crystal branch from one of the skeletal sapling trees scattered throughout the desert, holding it in his left hand and staring at it. Orihime watched as it simply dissolved under his heavy glare, the sparkling particles melting into his large hand. "The very air here is saturated with spiritual energy. Hueco Mundo is much more suited to support us than your shitty home."

"...Wow. I didn't know any of that," she told him honestly. There was so much about this world that she had yet to learn. She was still curious, though. "So... What era _were _you alive for?"

For the first time, she watched as he gave her somewhat of a deer-in-the-headlights look. It lasted a solid moment, until he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, the downturn of the corners of his lips exaggerated.

"Dunno, I guess."

Orihime was supremely dissatisfied with his answer.

"'Dunno,' as in you don't remember? Or 'Dunno,' as in none of my business?" she asked in a rare moment of shrewdness. He gave her a look, and she tried to defend herself. "I mean, ghosts become Hollows because of regrets and sins and all that stuff from life, right? Doesn't that... Doesn't that by default mean that you guys remember?"

The cold glower on his face had her hesitating by the end of her observation, but the dogs were loose, and there was no stopping her runaway mouth. _That was so rude of me, _she thought to herself. She wished she could take it back.

"So you're saying I should go out of my way to try to remember something as miserable as what got me here in the first place," he said slowly, condescendingly. "I'm pretty sure that after hundreds of years, I really don't give a shit." He didn't bother to hide the scathing patronization in his tone.

Properly chastised, Orihime ducked her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I guess it doesn't really matter after that long, does it?" She couldn't imagine he'd _want_ to remember. His amnesia was probably a blessing.

The silence between the two reigned heavy and awkward for many minutes after that. She would occasionally steal glances at her companion, her spirits sinking and her stomach churning at the intense frown marring his features, clearly distracted by his own thoughts as they proceeded across the white desert. She felt awful.

What if she'd just inadvertently made him relive some centuries-buried unspeakable horror? She'd never forgive herself if that was the case.

The pressure was building as her guilt came to a rolling boil. She was ready to burst with an apology of some sort, gibberish though it may have become by the time it left her mouth. Before she could say anything, though, she was stymied by his next unexpected statement.

"So you never really answered my question."

Cut-off moments before her outburst, she raised her eyebrows in question and with mouth agape.

"Eh?"

He looked at her with an annoyance that she was becoming accustomed to before he clarified.

"What's a car?"

And after a pause, Orihime couldn't stop the incredulous giggle from escaping her throat.

Monsters were all she'd seen since being brought here to Hueco Mundo, whether they were feeding her, beating her senseless, or threatening her psyche. But this monster before her was changing her perspective, little by little.

It was because of this unprompted fascination with the automobile that she realized, dead or not, Grimmjow really was indeed once a human…

…and once a human man.

* * *

_A/N: I, personally, want so badly to know the stories behind the living days of our favorite Shinigami, and especially of the Hollows. What personal tragedies or grievous sins made them the way they are in the afterlife? I think it's been a majorly wasted opportunity by KT, and frankly a way better idea than this Thousand Year War debacle going on right now._

_Amiright?_

_Please leave a review! You guys are super awesome!_


	11. If the World Should Break in Two

_A/N: I feel like Orihime in receive-knowledge mode is like Orihime in want-doughnut mode. Gosh, why is this girl so hilarious?_

_Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews! I hope to get out some responses as soon as I get the chance. Keep 'em coming!_

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters and places are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to utilize abandoned plot devices to my advantage._

* * *

**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 11: "If the World Should Break in Two"_

Orihime was nervous.

Her throat was dry, her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls, and there was a churning in her upper stomach like heartburn, but weaker.

She'd had enough. She would finally draw the line and demand her answers. The young woman planted her feet in the white sand and refused to go any further.

"G-Grimmjow." She mentally cursed the stutter.

The tall Espada was only a few strides ahead of her, hands in his pockets and posture slumped and relaxed as he led the way. Even he, though, recognized her resolution for what it was, and he stopped. He did not turn around.

"Where are we going?" Her tone was plaintive, bordering on desperate but without the whine. It was killing her, he could tell. A moment passed as the tension whooshed between them, like the breeze across the dunes they'd just crossed.

He sighed, then kept walking.

Orihime could not help the tiny keen that began to escape from her throat as she started after him, certain that she'd again missed an opportunity to gain insight into this severe man's head. She cut off the noise immediately, however, when he suddenly spoke.

"They're called the Negal Ruins."

The young woman sucked in a surprised breath, then scrambled on her feet to catch up to him. Once she was alongside the tall Arrancar, she looked up into his face, eyes wide with unbridled, childlike curiosity. He was more used to her skirting his intense gaze, and the imploring openness in her expression and her undivided attention made him somewhat uncomfortable. They walked on, step-in-step.

She clearly expected him to say more. He found he couldn't disappoint.

"It's the original seat of power here in Hueco Mundo. Barragan held his court there, like every Hollow king before him." His voice lowered dangerously. "Everyone before Aizen."

He cast his human companion a glance and let his lips quirk in amusement at her silent, engrossed look. He was almost glad he'd dragged the mystery out for so long; her eyes were practically glittery in their wonder. It was so comical, it bordered on creepy, so he didn't maintain eye contact for too long. She was waiting for more, and Grimmjow was suddenly pleased to deliver.

"Legend says that there's a 'gate' hidden there, somewhere in the ruins of the palace. It's a gate that would allow the King to travel anywhere in this world in an instant, just by walking through." He gave the girl a pointed look, wondering if she had caught on yet. "The King could rule to the far corners of Hueco Mundo, all from this throne, because no place was hidden from his reach." He watched as the cogs turned behind her curious eyes. His instincts insisted that this girl was much smarter than she let on, and he felt a minor victory when she proved him right in the next moment.

"We could use it to get back into Las Noches, and Aizen would be none-the-wiser," she said slowly, hesitantly. He enjoyed the way her brows furrowed daintily as he observed the idea light up her face like a struck match. "We could… We could destroy the Hogyouku, all while he thinks we're somewhere in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles away. Couldn't we?" He complimented her skills of deduction.

"Well, looks like you're not all tits, after all. Good job, Princess." He grinned at the way the blush flared on her face, she unable to figure out the proper way to react to such a crude compliment. Fighting down her own reaction, she continued.

"Sooo… how far is this place?" she asked, quite reasonably. Orihime cringed when the Arrancar popped his neck before responding.

"Let's just say we're going to be walking for a while." She felt slightly queasy at the prospect, then brightened.

"It'll be like a road trip!" she exclaimed, straightening up and clasping her hands behind her back. Her eyes squinted as she smiled up at him bravely. One of Grimmjow's brows arched at her audacity, wondering why she was trying to feign normalcy with him. He could sense how nervous she still was around him, after all.

"Sure," he responded with disinterest.

Orihime adjusted the strap of her rucksack on her shoulder and plodded along next to him.

As much as he hated useless banter, he found there was something unnatural about silence when she was around. He was almost relieved, then, when she spoke up again, initiating the most one-sided, pointless conversation he'd ever been a part of.

She made mention of anything and everything, from the unusual, barren scenery around them to the perpetual nighttime, to the doom-and-gloom of her former Espada captor, Ulquiorra, to her favorite subject in school. He found his own amusement in sometimes trying to figure out how she jumped from one topic to the next, rarely finding anything in common between her seemingly random thoughts.

Then she brought up Kurosaki.

His effortless amusement turned into a stormy glower almost immediately, his aggravation practically instantaneous at the mere mention of the teenaged boy's name. He'd almost forgotten about that brat, what with everything else going on. Orihime continued on in oblivion.

"You know, his family runs a clinic. I've thought once or twice about asking for a part-time position there, what with all the healing and stuff I can do. I mean, I know my passion lies in all things food – heh – but it would be a waste not to help people with the gifts I have, right? That, and I could spend time with Kurosaki-kun after school and it wouldn't be weird at all!" she ended the thought with a warm smile and rosy cheeks. Clearly the idea pleased her a great deal.

"Why the fuck would you want to spend more time than necessary with that worthless crotch stain?" Grimmjow snarled. Drawn out of her comfortable fantasy, Orihime looked up at her companion in shock. Wisely treading cautiously around his dramatic change in disposition, she asked a tentative question as she eyeballed him uneasily.

"W-well… Kurosaki-kun is my friend." Then, at the risk of pointing out the obvious, but because she needed the clarification, she risked a question. "Do you… not like Kurosaki-kun, Grimmjow?"

Just the sound of the boy's name put a foul taste in the Espada's mouth, but as he looked down at the girl fidgeting uncomfortably beside him, he realized how impossible it would be for her to understand. Theirs was a warrior's rivalry, cultivated by little more than the knowledge that there was someone out there who was so similar and yet so different, and that the outcome of their battles was never determined by physical strength or tactical prowess or even the strength of their resolve, but instead by random, infuriating interferences every. Single. Time. He hated the arrogance with which this boy fought, safe in his knowledge that his cause was righteous and that his friends were forever supportive and under the impression that these were the reasons he had survived his encounters with the Sexta Espada. Grimmjow, in contrast, was certain it was really nothing more than sheer dumb luck.

Nothing pissed the blue-haired Arrancar off more than weaker opponents deluded into believing that they could _ever_ best him. The fantasy didn't work out too well for Luppi, after all.

Grimmjow ran two fingers lightly over the massive scar that peeked out from the top of his jacket and over the left side of his collarbone. "Let's just say he owes me a rematch. And I owe him a good, decent pummeling."

Orihime's eyes traced his fingers' movements silently and observantly, never acknowledging his own glare. The gaze was almost _sad_, he found as she continued her quiet stare, and he was unnerved by how her large gray eyes stayed on his scar. He did not really know what he expected her to say, but he realized he felt almost… nervous under her examination. So used to her vapid, flighty, air-headedness as he'd become, he was suddenly on the receiving end of the most insightful look he'd been given since meeting Aizen for the first time, and it made the hair on his arms stand on end. He felt stripped bare by this little girl's sad, soulful, ancient eyes, and he realized just then by this look alone how worthy she truly may be of her godlike power.

His hand dropped to his side, and the two continued walking in silence. Orihime's gaze returned to the sand before them, the quiet between the pair finally natural as she was overcome by thoughts that Grimmjow was not privy to.

It seemed this young human that he'd allied himself to carried more demons than the ones Las Noches had burdened her with. He made a vague sound of interest under his breath, heard only by himself.

Perhaps, one day, he'd ask her about them.

They walked on into the night.

* * *

_A/N: So who out there remembers the Negal Ruins? Anyone? Yeah, that's where KT last left us with Orihime, Nel, Chad, Urahara, and the "Mystery Man" (cough) back in Hueco Mundo. Like, twelve years ago. Effing troll. I'm making up my own mythology behind the place since KT has seen fit to not tell us a damned thing of use._

Bleach _is one of the first animes I've seen where a character goes through as much BS as Orihime has in her lifetime, yet she remains unchanged in her resolve, positive outlook, and bubbly personality. She could have been a super-angsty character, and there would have been nothing wrong with that after everything that KT's put her through._

_Please review!_


	12. As They Peel Apart the Skin

_A/N: Your reviews are getting AWESOME. Love hearing what you have to say._

_This chapter has it all! Violence! Introspection! Badassery! Orihime asking stupid questions! Grimmjow ignoring stupid questions! I hope you enjoy._

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters and places are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to turn down for what._

* * *

**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 12: "As They Peel Apart the Skin"_

She was tiring, he could tell.

The girl had surprised him an hour ago when they were attacked by a trio of low-level Hollows. The weaker ones tended to travel in groups.

When he'd immediately jumped into action, he drew his sword and separated the largest one from the other two right off the bat. Its physiology hinted at a capacity for projectile attacks, so Grimmjow knew the key was to dispatch it right away. Following a series of leading attacks, the former Espada swung Pantera into action, meeting little resistance as he sliced through the Hollow's tough flesh. Following a series of strategic cuts, the elephant-sized beast came tumbling down into the sand, bellowing in the throes of final death.

Years ago, before Aizen and the Hougyoku, Grimmjow would have taken a piece of its flesh for himself. Now, though, the action would have done nothing to help him grow, so he suppressed the inherent urge. Besides, he'd probably frighten that fool of a girl silly.

_Shit. Speaking of which…_

She wasn't screaming yet, so she'd either run away or gotten eaten. Either choice would have been regrettable.

When Grimmjow turned to face the two remaining Hollows, though, he had to stop and blink twice.

Orihime stood there in the sand, feet balanced on their balls and set shoulder width apart. The two Hollows were both collapsed on their sides, bodies dissolving silently into colorless ash from two massive entrance and exit wounds. His brows raised as he watched a violent streak of light – unmistakably that Tsubaki of hers – return to one of her hairclips.

_I'll be damned._

"Huh. Not totally useless after all, are you chick?"

Orihime merely smiled and cocked her head to the side cutely, and Grimmjow rolled his eyes. He flicked the remains of the Hollow off his sword before resheathing it, and they continued.

Now, an hour later, he decided to call another halt to their flight. The girl looked exhausted, and he was more worried about her faceplanting into the dunes than he was about getting caught.

Problem was, as she settled in, she started _talking _again. And the silence had been so _nice…_

"What's your favorite food?" Orihime asked absently. Conversation had been sparse since he'd revealed his revulsion for Kurosaki-kun, and at first she couldn't muster up the interest to keep the idle chatter going. Leave it to her to make friends with people who were so complicatedly embroiled, she thought. Now that some time had passed and they'd stopped for a break, though, she hoped a different topic might make him open up again.

Grimmjow was silent for a second as he digested the absurdity of the random question.

"I don't need to eat."

Orihime's gasp alone spoke volumes over the affront she felt on his behalf.

"You're _kidding_!" she said, horror lacing her tone. "Not even for fun?!" Grimmjow made a face at her, making it abundantly evident how daft he found her in that moment.

"Why the hell would I bother eating food when I don't have to?" Orihime's hands rushed to her cheeks, then to her chest, then over her stomach as if she did not quite know where to place them to make her astonishment most evident.

"But, Grimmjow! There's so much good food out there!" A wistful look came over her face. "There's chocolate, and fish crackers, and honey, and bean paste... Oh, and mango! And warm fresh bread, or cold ice cream... Corn flavored!" His expression was laced with mild amusement as he watched her flutter off into an imagination-induced daze, her hands articulating what her words couldn't manage.

"I hope you're not talking about all those flavors together..." he said, somewhat teasingly. She snapped her attention back to his face with a somewhat questioning look.

"Why not?" she asked, quite seriously. He turned slightly green.

"You're so fucking weird, you know that?" he said, equally serious.

He was more confused and somewhat dumbstruck when a dazzling smile broke out across her face.

"'Weird' is just a matter of perspective, silly. At least I keep things interesting."

Her honest – and admittedly very pretty – smile threw him off kilter. He went slightly slack-jawed as he was reminded of just how much life his companion had in her.

It was intoxicating.

Grimmjow watched her auburn locks sway from side to side as he fell into a distracted daze behind her. He reflected, as he watched her wrestle animatedly with the drawstrings on her satchel, that everything about his existence circled around death, destruction, and emptiness. It was his very nature. _Hollow_.

This girl, though... She seemed to breathe life and light wherever she went. Even the desolate halls of Las Noches seemed to buzz with vitality whenever he would near her cell chamber. It contributed to his curiosity about the girl; it was why he always found himself drawn to her wing during the deadest of hours, little to her knowledge.

Her mere presence almost seemed to sooth the gaping ache, the literal emptiness physically manifested as the hole in his midsection.

As positive emotions that he had not experienced since his days as a living man flickered to life in him, he begrudgingly began to admit to himself that he might not, in fact, despise this girl. Far from it, actually.

He even harbored an ounce of respect for her. She wasn't his prisoner. No, not anymore, if she ever could have even been called that. She was his willing and capable ally, and he was faced with something he couldn't remember ever having in this afterlife.

A friend.

"Grimmjow?"

_Balls. _Caught staring, he did his best to save face. Backtracking to their earlier conversation, he deflected like a professional, hoping to knock his partner off kilter.

"Pff. 'Interesting'? The only interesting thing about you is your mammoth boobs, chick." _That should do it._

To his horror, Orihime merely blinked once, then looked down at her own breasts. She lifted her hands and cupped them solidly, as if weighing them. His eyes almost bugged out of his head at the suddenly tantalizing sight. They looked so soft...

He blinked hard and swung his eyes away from the display, inhaling through his teeth in a hiss.

"Gah, jeeze. What the hell are you trying to do, give me a hard-on? Dumb bitch."

That plan certainly backfired.

"I don't see what's so interesting about them, really," he heard her say. Her hands were still holding them, and he could vividly imagine her gently pushing them together, lifting them, _squeezing _them. _Crap crap crap. _It took all of his willpower not to look again.

"Tits are the most interesting thing in the world to a dude, idiot. Just ask any straight friend you have." _Ulquiorra smiling. Szayel's ugly face. Aizen dancing. Tousen kissing Yammy! _Grimmjow thought frantically of distracting subject matter. _Barragan in a bikini!_

His last visualization was like ice water on his libido. He breathed a pent up sigh of relief and squinted his eyes shut before turning to her again, heat still crawling up his neck. He wouldn't be surprised if there was steam coming off his head in the chilly desert night air.

"Boys are so weird," he heard her mumble under her breath. He risked opening his eyes all the way, and was glad to see that her hands had returned to her sides. She was getting comfortable, and fortunately that did not involve auto-assaulting her anatomy. He let out another breath, this one relieved.

"'Weird' is just a matter of perspective, stupid," he said with dry humor. There was an amused glint in his tired eyes as she turned to face him with some astonishment, surprised that he took account of anything she'd said. She gave him a small smile at his acknowledgement.

Content in a way she hadn't been in a very long time, she settled back in to a comfortable position and prepared to nap.

"Goodnight, Grimmjow."

He was half tempted to respond, but in the end he answered her with his silence.

As he watched her drift off, his thoughts flew in wild circles, reminiscent of the fairies from her girly hairclips. Though he was conflicted, he found himself strangely satisfied with the conclusions he'd drawn about his relationship with this young woman before him.

Of course, it figured that his ally and first real friend would be a babe that he couldn't quite bring himself to touch. He cursed to himself. Why couldn't she have been a cow? Or at least an irredeemable bitch.

"When you chew your food and swallow," she said sleepily, "does it just sort of fall through the hole in your stomach?"

_Damn it all._

"Go to _sleep, _Orihime."

* * *

_A/N: Seriously, you guys are fantastic. Your reviews are really starting to get into the nitty gritty of things, and there is no better feeling than reading them and thinking to myself, "Yes! Yes! You get it! We are totally on the same page!" You're all splendid folks, and I can't wait to hear what you have to say about this one._

_Thanks for reading!_


	13. They Pick and They Pull

_A/N: UPLOADING THIS LITTLE CHAPTER IN HONOR OF THIS WEEK'S MANGA UPDATE. It's like someone finally reminded KT about those other characters he'd forgotten for the past... year._

_Also, um, Orihime? I'm worried you might catch a cold in that outfit. This must be what happens when Grimmjow dresses her and not Ulquiorra._

_Disclaimer: _Bleach _and all associated characters and locations are the creative property of Kubo Tite. I'm just here to break things._

* * *

**_Coronado_**

_Chapter 13: They Pick and They Pull_

She could make friends with a rock if she wanted to, Grimmjow mused.

Most recently, they had come across a massive desert-worm Hollow, the monstrous creature bursting from the white sand beneath their feet. It bellowed hungrily, clearly sensing the girl's living _reiatsu_ and assuming it had an easy meal before it.

Grimmjow took a ready stance, a bored - and bothered - expression on his face as he prepared to dispatch the nuisance. The girl had clumsily tumbled to the wayside, separated from him by the massive serpentine body. She didn't have an ounce of combatant in her, he thought with a curious combination of worry and humored exasperation.

He was ready to pounce, then he heard her voice exclaim over the rushing sand.

"Whoa!" Grimmjow cocked his head to the side at the noise and listened. "You look so weird!" Her words made him roll his eyes.

She was right, though. The purple worm Hollow's face was nothing more than a giant set of pink lips that housed an awkwardly large set of teeth. Atop its head sat a horned bone mask like a visor-hat. It had no eyes that he could make out. Even Grimmjow had to admit that the predator looked pretty ridiculous.

Then, it started crying.

The Espada quite simply deflated, incredulous. The wailing noises the worm was making went beyond anything he had the capacity to handle. He watched as Orihime finally started to panic.

Waving her hands in front of her frantically in an apologetic gesture, she spoke again. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it like that!" she said in a high pitch, slightly shrill in her mortification.

"What I meant was, I've never seen anything like you!" The Hollow continued to wail. "You're 'weird' as in 'cool' and 'unique'! Cool-weird!" she tried to reassure.

The monster's cries lessened in volume as it absorbed her continued attempts at diplomacy. Grimmjow offhandedly wondered where its tears were coming from, seeing as how it had no eyes.

"You know what? I was so wrong. You're not weird-looking at all!" She clasped her hands in front of her face, trying to look as sincere as possible. "I don't know what I was thinking when I said that. You must have just surprised me, because you are super awesome-looking." The Hollow somehow managed a plaintive expression. "I mean it! Honestly!"

With one last sniffle, the altercation was over.

Grimmjow could not suspend his disbelief when she took it a step further and started scratching the worm under the chin.

"Who's a handsome Hollow? You are!" She spoke as if to a dog, coddling him now that he was compliant.

"So what's your name, handsome?" Grimmjow pouted inwardly as he overheard. She never said such nice things to _him_...

"Bawabawa," the monster responded deeply, slightly surprising both of them that he could speak.

_Huh_. Even his name was stupid, the ignored Espada thought somewhat petulantly. "That's an awesome name!" he heard her exclaim. He sighed loudly as he stood up tall, all semblances of his attacking posture gone. Grimmjow stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked around the monstrous worm, greeting the chatty girl on the other side with an unamused sneer. She and the Hollow were already acting like best friends.

"Grimmjow, did you know that Bawabawa can swim in the sand like a whale in water?" she exclaimed, trying to draw her aloof partner into the conversation as she continued to scratch the Hollow's head. Grimmjow was having none of it.

"Are you serious right now?" he asked, mustering as annoyed a tone as he could contrive. It was not difficult. "Move your ass, Princess. We don't have time for this shit." He approached, then addressed the Hollow. "You will make yourself scarce, if you know what's good for you," he growled.

Bawabawa looked at him dumbly, then back down at Orihime. "Where are you going?"

Grimmjow bristled, unused to being ignored by such a weak creature. Before he could voice his displeasure, the girl responded.

"We're headed for the Negal Ruins. We're on the run!" she added at the end, conspiratorially. While Grimmjow made a face at her audacity and inability to keep quiet about matters, Bawabawa made a noise of interest.

"Bawabawa knows where the Ruins are! Bawabawa can take you there fast!" he said, referring to himself in the third person. Orihime gasped at their fortune.

"Can you really?!" she exclaimed.

"No," Grimmjow cut in with finality. The girl finally turned to him, paying him her full attention for the first time during the encounter. She had a pout on her face as her large eyes looked up at her ally pleadingly.

"But... Why not? I'm sure we can get there way faster on his back!" At his continued look of noncompliance, she pouted further. "And my feet hurt!" she whined. "I'm only going to slow you down if we keep walking like this. And I'm sure _you_ don't want to carry me..." His sneer grew despite her increasingly convincing argument.

The two commenced a stare down, one with narrowed icy eyes and a firm stance and the other warm and open and pleading and so _goddamn_ adorable.

With an air of one absolutely put-upon, Grimmjow waited for a few moments before sighing deeply and looking away. "I'm not stopping him if he decides to eat you, chick," he said in a quiet rumble. Orihime spun around to face their new ride.

"Hooray!" she cried as the two celebrated. The Hollow echoed her exclamations. Grimmjow lamented being surrounded by dolts.

"This is going to haunt me, I just know it," he complained to no one in particular.

* * *

_A/N: But... seriously, Orihime. Put some clothes on. You look ridiculous._

_R/r!_


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